


Enough

by EscapingEarth



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000k slowburn, Asexual Romance, Holding Hands, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 10:57:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19810861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EscapingEarth/pseuds/EscapingEarth
Summary: In which all Crowley wants is a kiss..."Don't say you won't."





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Some sort of drabble-y nonsense I wrote whilst I was at work. The phrase "Don't say you won't." wormed itself into my head and wouldn't leave until I wrote it down.

6000 years. 6000 years I’d looked at him, the most angelic of all of God’s angels. 6000 years I’d seen that ever unchanging face, with its nose that scrunched up in delight, or disgust, eyes which cast down on me with disdain, or sometimes joy. We were alone in his bookshop, like we almost always were since the not-quite-Armageddon. I was looking at him still, and he was looking at me.

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?” he asks, voice like butterscotch in the air. I don’t answer. For some reason I can’t answer. “Would you like a mug of cocoa? Or a – a nice cup of tea?” He has taken my silence as an answer and I’m left floundering because I’ve always been content just like this but suddenly I want more, and this displays itself as:

“Do I look like I want tea, Angel? I'm a demon, why would I want something as insufferably quaint as tea?" He smiles at my sneer - no, wait, he's laughing at me and the whole universe expands before me, exploding into bright light as I try to affect an air of offence.

“What would you like, then?” the laughter is still on his lips, plump and warm and red and I know exactly what I want. I’m next to him in less than a heartbeat and he flushes crimson, the universe growing brighter and bigger still, never enough, never big enough to hold all of us.

One of my arms snakes its way around his waist, the other has found its way into the curls of his hair and I’m not entirely convinced I had told them to do so.

“Aziraphale…” My voice is low and hoarse as I bend my head, inch by torturous inch, until our mouths are mere millimetres apart.

“Crowley,” His voice is a whimper, almost a whisper, and I realise in an earth-shattering instant that he is terrified. I can’t help myself, I’m a demon after all.

“Don’t tell me you won’t.” A beat.

“I won’t.” And the universe collapses in on itself there and then, stars and galaxies, constellations and planets and dust imploding, drawing in, in, in, sucking me into nothingness with them. The last thing I see before The End of Everything is his eyes, sparkling blue like the ocean but purer than any sea could ever be.

“I won’t tell you that I won’t, Crowley, only that I can’t. Not yet.” And he doesn’t tag on the “I’m sorry” at the end but we both hear it as clearly as if he’d shouted it across the room, and I can see it flowing in his eyes like the tide coming in.

So I pull myself away, untangle our limbs and increase the distance between our faces. The removal of his warm breath on my cheek is jarring and uncomfortable, but I force myself not to dive back in, to take what I want anyway. It’s against my nature, but for the angel, anything. On my journey outward from All I Could Ever Want my hand brushes, completely innocently, against his, and a shock fires its way up and down my body with a cold spark that makes me think I could discorporate right there and then, and makes me wish I could reach out and take that soft hand in my own.

He does it for me. The unnecessary breaths I have been taking for the past 6000 years get caught in my throat as his fingers curl around my own, warm, secure, sure, and I’m half convinced the hellfire at my core burns away into angelic light.

“Angel-” I don’t know what to say, but I have to say something, right? I have to let him know he doesn’t have to, I can wait, another 6000 years if that’s what he needs –

“Shh. Shhh” His voice breaks through my stream of consciousness. “I may not be able to go quite that far just now,” And his words are rolling over me like waves, gentle, cooling, washing away the remnants of my earlier panic. “But I can certainly manage this” and here he squeezes my hand tight! A wonderful, affirming, reassuring gesture that causes stars to shower down in front of my eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few fell down from the sky, too.

I raise our joined hands to stare at them in wonder, wrapped together like I sometimes imagine our souls on those unpleasant nights when I can’t drag my body into sleep. I move my gaze onto his face, a soft glow surrounding his white hair like a halo – wouldn’t be surprised if it really is his halo – and he’s got that look on his face, the one that says “I hope I’m doing the right thing. I hope this is okay. I hope this is-”

“It’s alright Angel. This is enough” His relief is a physical thing, melting and evaporating off him like steam on the pavement. All the other words in the world get stuck somewhere in the back of my throat and I curse my stupid sunglasses for being in the way – if only he could read my eyes the way I read his – there’s a novel longer than the war of the worlds hidden in mine, I’m sure of it.

His breath quickens and his eyelashes flutter as he blinks, butterfly wings in the breeze, and I realise he doesn’t need to see it. He can feel it. He can feel it, and there couldn’t be anything better in the universe. Not the moon, not the stars, not Alpha Centauri, and when I suggest lunch he suggests we walk, because that way I won’t have to let go.

**Author's Note:**

> If everyone's a bit out of character in the middle its because I wrote that bit first - and it wasn't initially going to be a fic, just something to get me writing. They're probably most in character at the beginning because I wrote that bit last.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcomed and encouraged!


End file.
